Job 41

1Can you draw out leviathan with an hook? or his tongue with a cord which you let down? 2Can you put an hook into his nose? or bore his jaw through with a thorn? 3Will he make many supplications to you? will he speak soft words to you? 4Will he make a covenant with you? will you take him for a servant for ever? 5Will you play with him as with a bird? or will you bind him for your maidens? 6Shall the companions make a banquet of him? shall they part him among the merchants? 7Can you fill his skin with barbed irons? or his head with fish spears? 8Lay your hand on him, remember the battle, do no more. 9Behold, the hope of him is in vain: shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him? 10None is so fierce that dare stir him up: who then is able to stand before me? 11Who has prevented me, that I should repay him? whatever is under the whole heaven is mine. 12I will not conceal his parts, nor his power, nor his comely proportion. 13Who can discover the face of his garment? or who can come to him with his double bridle? 14Who can open the doors of his face? his teeth are terrible round about. 15His scales are his pride, shut up together as with a close seal. 16One is so near to another, that no air can come between them. 17They are joined one to another, they stick together, that they cannot be sundered. 18By his neesings a light does shine, and his eyes are like the eyelids of the morning. 19Out of his mouth go burning lamps, and sparks of fire leap out. 20Out of his nostrils goes smoke, as out of a seething pot or caldron. 21His breath kindles coals, and a flame goes out of his mouth. 22In his neck remains strength, and sorrow is turned into joy before him. 23The flakes of his flesh are joined together: they are firm in themselves; they cannot be moved. 24His heart is as firm as a stone; yes, as hard as a piece of the nether millstone. 25When he raises up himself, the mighty are afraid: by reason of breakings they purify themselves. 26The sword of him that lays at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. 27He esteems iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. 28The arrow cannot make him flee: sling stones are turned with him into stubble. 29Darts are counted as stubble: he laughs at the shaking of a spear. 30Sharp stones are under him: he spreads sharp pointed things on the mire. 31He makes the deep to boil like a pot: he makes the sea like a pot of ointment. 32He makes a path to shine after him; one would think the deep to be hoary. 33On earth there is not his like, who is made without fear. 34He beholds all high things: he is a king over all the children of pride.
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